Postby WildcatOne » Sun Sep 23, 2007 12:48 pm
This was another 2 nights of wild and crazy gigs. Friday night, we played at T-Bone Tom's Backyard in Kemah, in the lighthouse district. The Phantom Cruisers showed up with their beautiful hot rods (Pee Wee's '56 Chevy is down with a major engine problem; he's switching to a 2 4-barrell setup...with 65 grand sunk into this car, he said he's not going to pinch pennies anymore, he's going for a high-performance deal from now on...he's sick...they're all sick...Jerry dropped a brand-new 350 crate engine into his '39 Ford last month, but nothing fit like they said it would...he had to spend a couple thousand bucks getting everything in there, but it's in and it sings...he complained about the deal but he said it was worth it in the long run. He's a member of Goodguys. He isn't going to Bakersfield but he will be at the divisionals coming up...but I digress) It was a guy's birthday and they reserved 50 seats and they threw a wild party with lights all over everybody...Pee Wee's group also had 30 people, the place was packed, and wouldn't you know it...this one chick with the birthday party had the hots for me...a tall blond, quite healthy and fertile...she was dancing right in front of me, moving suggestively and gesturing to me to come and get it while I twanged my Telecaster...Pee Wee turned around to me and said "Big Bad John's got it going on TONIGHT, Baby!" He loves it when things get a little (but not too much) beyond reason...we all do...she was shaking and bumping and grinding at me like a machine...so I look past this chick and there in the middle of the crowd, sits my wife. Watching. She had that peeved/pleased look on her face...which means, look but don't touch...I know that look; I've been seeing it for 25 years...I kept playing, of course, but I stepped back just a little, ya know. Debby showed up for my birthday, actually it was BP's birthday, but it seems our birthdays are gradually becoming one 2-day party. Anyway, the 'Bone was packed and the night was perfect. The chick kept her distance during breaks, and I was let off the hook from having to politely explain to her that I'm happily married and not on the make. I would have had to do that even if Debby wasn't there. First, I really am not interested in other women...I still love, honor and cherish my wife. I look, I admire beauty, I enjoy seeing them having a good time and letting their base instincts out, because they need to do that, everybody does, and when they do that it just tells me I'm doing what Pee Wee is paying me to do...and secondly, why trade short-term (like, one night's worth of) pleasure for long-term misery? It's not worth the trouble. I also believe if I did go over and pull her out to the parking lot for a few minutes, it would change my deal with that band. I'd become expendable. Pee Wee selected each of us very carefully...no dopers, no slackers, no cheaters, no idiots, in other words. We're all dependable, stable and committed to making that band sound great. If I started fooling around with women at gigs, it would not only screw up my life, it would probably screw up the band as well. It would give us a reputation as a bunch of womanizing a-holes; a tag that is very hard to shake off, and undeserved because professionals don't do those things, even if they're single. There are other times for personal business and a gig is not the time or place for it. We are paid to perform the music and that's the deal. Start getting into the women and a whole world of trouble will come up...like maybe her husband, with a .410 shotgun...or your old lady with a pretty blue revolver containing a sweet little bullet just for you...one of my best friends had an extramarital affair a couple of years ago. He got caught (that always happens, doesn't it...) and it was a very messy situation for a while. His wife, who is also one of my best friends, took him back...I asked Debby, what if I did something like that? What would you do? Would you divorce me? She said "No. But I promise you, you would wish for the rest of your life that I would..." But I digress...Last night we played at a lady's 40th birthday party at a big spread down in the boondocks, outside of Manvel in Brazoria County, on a back road waaaay out there...but when I finally got there (the map Pee Wee gave me was useless. It isn't laid out like the map shows, that's how far back this place is...including a train sitting there with nobody on it where I had to cross the tracks...had to drive 3 miles up the road to cross the tracks so I could double back and get back on the road but I decided to get there from the other direction, using dead-reckoning, I made it to the place...) But when I got there, they had the place roped off, a parking attendant directed me to the band's parking spot behind the garage, lit by a neon '57 Chevy sign...big, beautiful place with a revival tent set up outside with a gambling casino in it and a 25-foot-long barbecue buffet, a patio encircled with coolers packed with ice-cold beer, an open liquor bar, the garage had an inside restroom with running water, soap, hand towels, and behind that was a big warehouse with sailboats and motorboats and a giant RV parked in it, and so on...these folks have some dough to spend on this lady's birthday. Pee Wee walked in and laid 2 c-notes on me right off the top. We set up and played. They went crazy. The last 2 sets, they went insane...screaming, hooting and hollering; the whole place became an orgiastic mass of humanity and physical melting pot...they were louder than the band...the ladies who were acting prim and proper when we first showed up were now in an R-rated Conga Line in front of us, doing the jungle boogie. This music does something to them, as I am sure the open bar helped bring to the surface, and during "Bo Diddley", I duck-walked out into the crowd to play the guitar solo...I was mugged...one set of hands slipped into my shorts from the back side...other hands were all over me...and they were glued to my body while I twanged away...I thought "I better get outta this situation before they pull my pants down..." and I backed up to the band, but they didn't let go...my mic stand went crashing into the drums, I ran into Loren and knocked him down...Pee Wee let out a rebel-yell scream and the whole place erupted into the Battle of Crimea, and the band kept playing...he pulled me over and yelled into my ear "THAT's what I'm talkin' about!" and a chick jumped up on him, then another one, and it was out of control for a minute there...they howled and screamed for more, more, more...we had to back up. Somebody turned on the lights, everything eventually settled back down. For a few minutes last night, I saw a complete breakdown of conventional behavior in an otherwise affluent society...I made $317 in 2 nights twanging my guitar with the Pee Wee Bowen Band and I got to enjoy witnessing some of this town's prettiest ladies let their guard down and get down to the core of their trip with our band...almost game-time, gotta run. Thanks for reading The Night Shift. Life is good. WC1
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